INT. bus. #8 Fraser, Northbound on Granville Street. A bum, quite chubby, especially in the belly, native, dirty hair and hands, gets on the bus and accosts the driver.

BUM #1:

Hey, Chicago Illinois. Chicago Illinois!

The bum puts some money (how??) in the box and continues down the aisle muttering and shouting, alternately.

BUM #1:

Chicago Illinois, CHICAGOOOOOO, illinois. Ossama ossama ossama bin laaaaaaaaaaden bin laden ossama bin laden.

He sits down on one of the single seats on the left of the bus behind another scruffy looking, skinny cowboy type bum with a gaunt face and summer teeth (some're here, some're there).

BUM #2:

heyeyayayay, did you hear bout the price on Ossama bin Laden's head?

BUM #1:

25 million dollars. I wonner how a guy like me cn get my hands inna that.

BUM #2:

yup. I'd be down there so fast.

BUM #1:

I was down there las week. I saw him. He's doin real good, reaal good. Really holdin up.

BUM #2:

Oh yea? Ya know, I hear he wears a dress.

BUM #1:

wull, if you kill a million people I guess you cn wear what you want.

BUM #2:

He's on a kidney dialysis machine 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

BUM #1 and 2:

(hoarse chuckling and wheezing followed by racking coughs)

For pete's sake.

I come up on the lycos search enging under "the laundry girls" because I quoted a beastie boys song "girls" with the lines "to do the laundry GIRLS etc". I really should start cataloguing all the weird searches that my site seams to come up under. It's all very strange.

So you'll notice at the bottom of the page in a rectangle that REALLY STANDS OUT, I have joined the Evil Robot Army. Go look at it. Now.

I went on a date yesterday. It was a lunch date. We had lunch. He is a guy from Port Moody who, as it turns out, knows my cousin's redneck husband and his family as well as several of the scuzzy pervert older guys I used to hang out with when I was 15 and didn't know any better. He's a salesman. I don't like salesmen. I feel like I'm always being sold something. He looked me in the eye a total of 2 times. He slicks his hair. He wears a leather coat. He's in travel and tourism sales, no less. He has an extra chin. Why? Why am I lowering my standards?

Why is it that it's assumed that I have to lower my standards because I am slightly heavier than what is considered fashionable? I don't want to! I don't want to date someone with a double chin. I don't have a double chin.

I guess I am being pretty mean. I suppose he's an ok guy, I just didn't dig him all that much, personality wise too. He rolled his eyes when I explained my vegetarianism. That pissed me off. I told him not to roll his eyes at me.

He asked me out for dinner again this week. Jackrabbit says "hey, free dinner".

In Jackrabbit notes, it seems that even after we agree we are never going to sleep together, we end up in bed fucking like piledrivers. I can't come now. I'm on antidepressants and those completely fuck with my ability to orgasm. Things still feel nice, but I can't climax, which sucks. What sucks the MOST is that I get really wet and horny, then part way through I dry up. SHHEEEEEEEEEEIT. But none of this stops me from wanting him to ram me so hard he bounces my tonsils from the inside...

What is really interesting is that since I've been single, I've been laid more by the same guy than I was ever laid in all of 2 and a half years by my BOYFRIEND. That should say something.